It's not a crack house, it's your hotel!

When you travel to historic cities, you have to remember that the buildings are not decades old, but centuries old, or more! And they look it. I have stayed in numerous places that are downright scary – if you saw them in a movie you'd start yelling at the screen: “Don't go in! Don't go in!” Rooms are usually tiny (especially the single rooms I book), and bathrooms are minuscule, having been retrofitted into structures that were built before the advent of indoor plumbing.

My current hotel's street entry is not the worst but still, it gave me pause (see photos). It features a steep concrete staircase that seemingly leads to nowhere. At the top of this staircase, I found a tiny elevator marked with the name of my hotel. The door opened and I stepped in – my suitcase and I barely fit. After the doors closed, nothing happened and I had a moment of panic thinking I was stuck in an elevator that didn't even have enough room for me to sit down. After a delay, however, it chugged up a floor and the doors opened to reveal a beautifully appointed lobby with the friendliest of reception guys.

He checked me in (taking my passport), and explained the many amenities of this hotel. Hands down, this is the best place I've stayed. There is breakfast provided each morning (which is fairly typical). But there is also a happy hour each evening during which wine and bruschetta are served. In addition to providing functional wi-fi, each room is outfitted with its own laptop (!!!), as well as a DVD player, flat screen TV, mini-bar fridge and bathroom. There is a collection of DVD movies (in various languages) and books in the lobby that one can simply borrow for the night. My room is small, but larger than many I've had and the bathroom is downright spacious in comparison to most.

At the happy hour last night, I met a Malaysian man who currently lives in Australia. He is on a solo vacation – his wife is at home tending to their two daughters who are in the throes of an active gymnastics competition season. Tonight, I shared my table with three Japanese ladies who have previously visited Naples and Rome. One of them knew just enough English that we could exchange some pleasantries.

As is often the case with single rooms, I have no view. In fact, my room in Rome had a window out to what looked like a filthy elevator shaft without the elevator. Here in Florence, I have a window that looks out on a 10x10 narrow courtyard so essentially, all I see are the windows of adjoining buildings. The plus side is that these interior rooms are extremely quiet, being away from the very busy street noise.

These photos show the highly recommended Hotel Davanzati, along with some miscellaneous street scenes.